


Bus Stop

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Strangers at the Bus Stop, like fluff-o-rama, meet cute, not gonna lie, zimbits au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: Jack bumps into the same beautiful stranger at the bus stop every day.  Will he gather the courage to speak to him?





	Bus Stop

He supposed he could take a cab, an Uber, anything else -- but the quiet anonymity the bus afforded him was one of the simpler things Jack Zimmermann was thankful for and truly enjoyed. For what reason would an NHL multimillionaire have for taking public transit? No one ever paid him any attention, and he was perfectly fine with that. 

He walked the three blocks to the bus stop and stood quietly, sipping his coffee in his _Je ♥ Montréal_ travel mug that he bought the last time he traveled through Trudeau airport. His SUV had only been in the shop four days, but he continued taking the bus whenever he could even after it had been repaired. 

It was the preseason and things, although quite busy, were still somewhat relaxed. And during this time, Jack’s routine was the same. He’d walk two blocks, stop at The Roast to fill his travel mug, then walk one more block to the bus stop. He’d ride the 30 minutes to the arena, serenely and without fuss, then get off two blocks before rather than right in front. He’d take a Lyft back to his apartment, or hitch a ride with Tater who would drive by Jack’s place on his way home. 

And so it went for a few weeks, until one day he had just taken his seat and as the bus began to pull away he heard a voice call out.

“Wait! Oh, lord! Please wait!”

The bus pulled over abruptly and on jumped a blond man with the brightest smile and sweetest face Jack had ever seen.

“You saved me. Thanks so much,” the man said to the bus driver who nodded as he paid.

He smoothed his hair back and then sat at the front of the bus. Jack watched him from behind his travel mug as the man smiled to no one in particular, and exhaled as he sank into his seat.

He waved at the toddler sitting on her mother’s lap across from him and chatted easily with the mother. He stood up and gave his seat to an elderly woman who got on the bus and complimented her on her hat. He looked out the window seeming to be genuinely interested in the world outside and around him. Jack was fascinated. How content and outgoing could one person be? 

The man then turned and stared right at Jack, and their eyes met. Jack quickly looked away feeling his cheeks burn. 

Jack slowly looked up again, and the man was still watching Jack. He smiled and tilted his head as a form of greeting.

Jack took a big gulp of his coffee, forgetting it was oh so hot and began to cough. He felt the roof of his mouth with his tongue; the scald was painful, but not as painful as the embarrassment he felt when he noticed the man chuckled and shook his head. 

After several blocks, the man pulled the stop request cord. Jack watched as he exited without so much as another look. Jack watched him walk down the street as the bus zoomed past him.

Two days later, Jack stood at the bus stop sipping on his breakfast blend from The Roast when the man walked into the bus stop shelter.

Jack felt his eyes widen without his consent as the man smiled and quietly sidled up next to Jack. The two remained wordless while they stared directly ahead, and into the street. The seconds ticked away as Jack heard his wristwatch, while the almost silence enfolded them both.

Jack peered at him out of the corner of his eye. The man was carrying a red leather messenger bag, wearing black Converse all-stars, very tight dark jeans, and a fitted white shirt. He had a pair of clubmaster sunglasses sitting on top of his head. Jack studied the veins that ran along his muscular forearms, which were on display with his sleeves rolled up.

Jack then remembered how _he_ was dressed, and wished someone would come beam him away. He looked like a fucking slob and was painfully aware of the fact. He was wearing a navy blue hoodie (with the hood on because _of course_ ), a pair of basketball shorts with running tights underneath and his favorite yellow Adidas had seen better days. He sighed and gripped his travel mug tightly. 

“ _Es-tu de Montréal_?”

“Pardon me?” Jack croaked out.

“Sorry,” he said. “I noticed your travel mug. I was just wondering if you were from Montréal.”

“Oh.”

The man smiled and shrugged, while he continued looking ahead. Jack didn’t reply, and felt it was too late to say anything, so he didn’t -- but in the process felt like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“You couldn’t remember if you were?” The man asked with a smile.

“I… uh. I spaced out?”

_The world’s biggest idiot._

The man smiled at Jack. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and Jack wanted to reach out and touch them.

“I love it there. It’s a great city.”

Jack nodded.

The bus approached and the two boarded. They paid their fare, and the man greeted the bus driver.

“Hi, Merle.”

“Hey, Eric.”

Eric. His name was Eric.

Jack walked toward the back of the bus and quickly sat down. Eric remained at the front, and pulled out an issue of _Saveur_ from his bag. He began to read and didn’t look at Jack once. Not that Jack was creeping and watching him the entire time. Well, he was, but no one needed to know that.

It was during times like these that Jack wished he had the gift of the gab. 

The ability to talk to strangers was something that never came easily to Jack. Small talk was akin to a slow painful death in the world of Jack Zimmermann. He would watch Tater’s ease with strangers and it filled him with envy. His father could talk to anyone, anywhere. His mother always commanded a room. 

How he wished he possessed those skills right now. How he wanted to introduce himself to Eric and ask him what he did for a living, and what he thought of today’s weather, did he like hockey, or had he seen the latest blockbuster movie. Instead, he fervently clutched his coffee mug.

As the bus approached Eric’s stop, Eric put his magazine away and walked toward the exit at the back of the bus.

When the door opened, Eric turned toward Jack and breezily said, “ _À la prochaine!_ ”

Jack’s mouth fell open, and all he managed was a quick wave as Eric left and walked down the sidewalk. 

 

And so it went for a few weeks. The two would approach the bus stop at the same time, Eric would nod and Jack would return it. Then as Eric exited, he’d say goodbye and walk down the sidewalk. Jack never saying more than a goodbye, or if he were feeling particularly cheeky, an occasional “bye” would slip out.

One particular miserable morning, the rain that began the evening before refused to leave. Jack considered taking his SUV to the arena as he looked out his apartment window. But then that meant he wouldn’t see Eric, and a morning without seeing Eric was a sad morning indeed. So he pulled out his umbrella and trudged toward the bus stop, regretting his decision with every deep puddle he managed to step in.

He reached the bus stop and waited five minutes. No sign of Eric anywhere. The bus came and Jack looked around hoping Eric would appear. Nothing. 

Jack shyly waved the bus on and as it pulled away, he heard Eric yell, “Wait!” By then, the bus had taken off and was down the street.

Eric stopped in the middle of sidewalk, without an umbrella, soaking wet.

“Shit!” he yelled as he kicked at a puddle. Then he looked toward the bus stop, and saw Jack standing there. 

Jack approached Eric and said, “Here. Please share my umbrella.”

Eric walked underneath it, as Jack led them back to the bus shelter.

“Thanks. I couldn’t find my umbrella, and it was getting late so I figured I’d run here but that didn’t turn out so well now did it?”

Jack shook his head. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

Eric turned up to look at Jack and smiled, “I guess so.”

“I’m Jack.”

“Eric.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Eric.”

 

Years later, Jack would love to tell the story of how he and Eric met. 

“He was giving me The Eye the first time he saw me…”

“Oh, you! Knock it off, mister,” Eric would reply as he’d pretend to punch Jack in the arm.

“And I’d see him almost every day, but never spoke to him. I was dying to, but never did.”

“He was such a charmer. Don’t let you him fool you!”

“And then one day, it was raining and he missed the bus and I walked over and said---”

“He said, ‘Please share my umbrella.’”

Jack smiled and this was the point in the story where he’d pull Eric in for a kiss; Eric making himself comfortable in Jack’s lap.

And Jack would continue to tell the story of how that same day, they called in sick, stopped at The Roaster and sat in a tiny table at the back of the café. They shared life stories, childhood anecdotes, talked about work, ate the most sinful chocolate cake, and finished falling in love, all in the course of one afternoon. That was Jack’s most favorite thing to tell people. 

He’d tell any and everyone who would listen.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song [Bus Stop](https://youtu.be/DZEoKqjfvkw) by The Hollies. Because how stinking cute is that song?
> 
> Thanks to Ngozi for creating these amazing characters.
> 
> Come and say hi [on the Tumblrerers](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com). I'm WrathoftheStag.


End file.
